Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Objects of my Fantasy ❯ Objects of my Fantasy ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing

Okay, I got this idea after reading the Canterbury tales (that's probably spelled wrong, but I don't feel like getting up to see what it IS spelled like, but it is middle ages literature I believe.) This is an Epic Poem, started at about 10 PM, while babysitting. I am glad the kids didn't wake up because if they had, I wouldn't have finished it before the parents came home around 1 o'clock. It's basically my vision on the show (in a very crappy way, though, I'm glad my poetry years are WAY behind me because it were not good years) and it might have things in there which seem untrue. It isn't exactly the way I had planned it to be, but oh well. Bare with me I'd say.

Objects of my fantasy

This story starts about two centuries,
After the building of the colonies.
Five young lads, who fought a war together,
All around the age of puberty they were.
They all fought with their own ability.
The first one, coded as Heero Yuy
Was thought to be a soldier, best of best,
He followed orders, never dared to quest.
He met this princess, she had seen too much.
No-one was to know just what he was.
He vowed to take her life, more than once.
But even though he got enough a chance,
His hands refused to still her heart at all.
Why couldn't he just kill the stupid gall?
He cared for her, that much is safe to say.
But even he knew not what really lay
Within his heart, was it love or just care?
Whichever of the two, he knew 't was there.
This young man, used to working on his own,
Fought by himself, but he was not alone.
Socialising was for him taboo.
Luckily, soon was there number two.
His first name, memoir to a friend,
Whom, sadly, by a plague came to his end.
His last name, from the priest in church,
Whom had given his all for the search
To give an otherwise forgotten boy,
At least a fragment of the pride and joy
A seven year old is supposed to get.
But alas, this man too, met his death.
That which does not kill us, makes us strong.
Duo Maxwell learned to carry on.
He proudly demonstrated his vocabulary.
Giving up was not found in his dictionary.
Trick nor torture could make this guy betray,
Those in whom his confidence now lay.
He cared for life, yet despite all that he
Named himself 'God of Death', 'Shinigami'.
Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, yes,
Those two were a couple of success.
Just like Tro and Quat's Co-operation.
They sure made the strangest combination.
One had nothing, the other had it all.
They were as different as spring to fall.
Trowa Barton, formerly 'Noname',
Oh, this pilot knew how to play game.
Quiet gentleness, this was which ruled
The tall young man's features, thou'd be fooled.
He laid back, watching like a snake,
Waiting to see which path his prey would take.
Friend or foe, with him you could not tell,
But he knew his enemy too well.
Oh yes, Zero-Three was like a treasure.
Just watching him move was a true pleasure.
He knew the real world and could understand,
What needed to be done, be it by his hand.
Quatre Rebarba Winner was the fourth.
He most of all questioned his own worth.
A business man his son, was he just that?
'To be or not to be' but to be what?
His gentle heart said violence wasn't right.
Yet the soul of outer space told him to fight
For his believes, and that is how he left
His father's company, to join the Maganacs.
He first met Zero-Three and let him in.
Together they played flute and violin.
Quatre is the one of strategy
They say, but he too lost it totally.
The Zero-System drove dear Quat insane.
He went for Trowa, what was there to gain?
Their reunion, this I say as a true fan,
Blonde should have shot Cathy to oblivion.
She warded off his friend, this was in order
To protect the one she called her brother.
Here is a lesson she was forced to learn;
Us teenagers can be pretty stubborn.
As much as she wanted him within her shield,
Deep down Trowa belonged in battlefield.
Reunited with his friends at last,
Barton proved to be still just as fast.
Now these are four, but I clearly stated five,
There was indeed another one alive.
The fifth of them is surely hard to miss.
A man of pride and honour, that he is.
Though females were the weak ones in his view,
What Sally Po did was entirely new
To this beautiful Chinese young man.
't Is Chang Wufei, or rather, Wufei Chang.
So many things had he already seen.
He had been widowed at the age fifteen.
His wife her death would never be in vain.
Her ideals soon found their reign
In Wufei's mind and spirit as he sought
A way to do true justice with his sword
The strong ones must be right, the right ones strong,
But what if in the end the winner's wrong?
If evil won, was then this evil right?
Was it really all that black and white?
These dilemmas haunted his young mind.
Especially after that one time
When Treize defeated him, oh what a shame.
How was he righteous, carrying his clan's name?
It was not strength, but determination
That worked enough on Wufei's aggravation
To make him see the flaw in his own mind;
How could you ever win, giving up your fight?
Our Chinese man came back, strong and clever,
Even more driven by his honour than ever.
Kushrenada died that final day.
It was Wufei's victory, so to say.
But he could not have done it in his life,
All by himself, I told you there were five.
At last, here they are, one more time again:
Heero Yuy, perfect soldier man.
Duo Maxwell, trustworthy though loud,
Trowa Barton, he's an odd one out.
Quatre Winner, following his heart,
Wufei Chang, adult for a part.
They all fought brave and as if it were meant,
They revived the peace there, in the end.
Where they are now, this I cannot tell,
But know that I do wish them all the well.
And forever these boys their lives may be
Subjected to my world of fantasy.

-little princess

If you have questions (some facts might be... not exactly right, but I put them like that for a reason) or wanna talk to me about your vision, just ask them in a signed review and I will personally mail you. Don't bitch me on my poor english, grammar is horrible at soe points, but hey, that's the fun thing of writing an epic poem!